Jake
by Ghostwriter
Summary: Jake's past collides with his present.
1. Painful Memories

JAKE

DISCLAIMER

UC: Undercover belongs to NBC. Takes place after Once Upon a Time...In the Hood. I always thought that Jake looked shaken by Quito calling him a dog and this is just my take on why. This is new and hopefully improved. Song is in italics and memories are bold\italics and are supposed to coincide. Don't forget to check out my forum.

CHAPTER ONE: PAINFUL MEMORIES

Jake Shaw slammed his desk drawer shut.

"What's with **you**?" Alex Cross wondered.

"Nothin'," Jake answered as he stood up. His eyes clouded. Quito's voice echoed in his head. **_Jake? Yeah, Jake the dog._** The words still shook him to the core. Even though Quito knew nothing about him, the man had managed to find his one weak spot: being called a dog. He hadn't been called that since he was thirteen and had been placed with...**him**. One of the state approved homes that hadn't worked out. Without looking at any of his coworkers, Jake strode out of the room.

"O...kay. What was **that** all about?" Cody Forrester asked.

"You got me," Monica Davis replied. Their boss, Frank Donovan said nothing, but stared in the direction his agent had gone. Jake mounted his motorcycle and took off. As he did so, images ran through his head like a silent movie. He shook his head to clear it and continued until he was home. Then, he unlocked the door and walked in. He flipped on the light switch and walked over to his stereo system, where a few discs lay haphazardly, one which featured a woman who appeared to be a few years older than him. **_She threw her head back in silent laughter._** Jake took turned on the stereo, took the c.d. out of its case, and placed it in its slot. Once it was ready, he turned on the c.d. A few seconds later, slow, bluesy jazz and a woman's flirtatious voice filled the room.

_Hush little baby, don't say a word._

_Papa's gonna buy you a mocking bird._

Jake walked over to the refrigerator and got out a bottle of Scotch and poured himself a glass.

_If that mocking bird don't sing,_

_Papa's gonna buy you a diamond ring._

Jake let the bitter taste scorch his throat. **_A man reared back a hand and slapped a young boy._**

_If that diamond ring turns brass,_

_Papa's gonna buy you a looking glass. _

**_A door silently opened and two two kids jerked awake and stared at each other._** Jake shook his head. He couldn't---he couldn't give in to the memory.

_If that looking glass gets broke,_

_Papa's gonna buy you a Billy go-o-oat._

**_The man walked through the door and the kids shook. The girl pushed the boy behind her. However, the man merely shoved her aside and positioned himself on top of the boy._** Jake's Adam's apple wobbled. He swore and threw his glass against the wall.

_If that Billy goat don't pull,_

_Papa's gonna buy you a cart and bull..._

Jake slid to the ground, crossed his arms over his legs, hung his head, and sobbed.


	2. A New Case

DISCLAIMER

UC: Undercover belongs to NBC. I only own characters you don't recognize. Please check out my forum and tell me what you think.

The next day, Jake quietly walked through the door of their headquarters and continued until he was in the briefing room.

"Jake, you're late," Frank noted reproachfully.

"So, whatta ya gonna do? Huh?" Jake asked, a hint of challenge in his voice.

"Take it easy, Jake," Alex said in a placating manner.

"Sorry. Kinda overdid it on the drinks last night. Hangover will wear off soon," Jake apologized.

"Monica, what've you got for us?" Frank asked. Jake sat down, recognizing the change of subject as his boss' way of accepting the apology.

"Rick Hiram. To the business world, he's merely one of most successful men in Chicago. **We**, however, recognize him for his success as an art thief," Monica stated.

"What's his personality like?" Frank asked.

"Charming, suave, a real Don Juan," Monica stated.

"Ah, just like Jake," Alex noted, tossing a pen at him.

"Not quite," Jake drawled, throwing the writing tool back at her.

"Do we know anything about his crew?" Cody wondered.

"Not much. Just that he has two top lieutenants---Stephen "Mugs" Marshall and Brett "Tiny" Warren. Plus a general we know nothing about," Monica answered.

""Mugs" and "Tiny"? Sound like my kind of guys," Jake quipped. Frank shot a dirty look at the operative, whose only response was a shrug.

"How can we get into his crew?" Alex asked. Frank threw Alex and Jake files with their new aliases. They perused the papers.

"Huh. A role I can sink my teeth into," Jake mused.

"Goody for you. **I**, on the other hand, am playing the part of some ditzy flake," Alex fumed.

"Rather insultin', ain't it?" Jake queried. Alex was one of the most intelligent women he knew.

"Hiram likes ditzes. I was hoping Alex could get close to him," Frank explained.

"Well, as long as you have a good reason," Alex accepted.

"A guy like Hiram---he ain't gonna just deal with the first guy that comes along. How do you suggest we gain his trust?" Jake wondered.

"Normally, you'd be right. However, word on the street is that Hiram is short two crew member. That's where you two come in," Frank told them.

"When's the meet?" Alex asked.

"Tomorrow. I had some---old friends---pull some strings," Frank replied.

"'Old friends'? Will we get to meet them?" Cody questioned.

"No," Frank answered, leaving no room for argument.

"Okay, then. That it?" Jake questioned.

"Yeah, that's it," Frank answered.

"Fine," Jake said. Then, he rapped the table, stood up, and walked out. Frank stared. _What's up with Agent Shaw?_ he wondered. However, he didn't voice the question. The next morning, Jake and Alex went to the prearranged meeting spot.

"I don't like this," Alex admitted.

"Hey. Don't worry. Ain't nothin' gonna happen," Jake promised. Alex smiled. A black limo pulled up and Alex tensed as it stopped at the curb. Jake stepped closer and Alex felt herself relaxing at the protectiviness. A group of men stepped out.

"I'm Rick Hiram," the lead man introduced himself. "This is Mugs and Tiny." Rick was a tall Caucasian with black hair and hazel eyes. Mugs was short and stocky with brown hair and brown eyes. Tiny was almost as tall as Rick with blond hair and blue eyes.

"He's obviously not named for his height," Jake muttered. Alex elbowed her partner in the ribs. Just then, a black porsche was heard approaching.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. What's this?" Jake wondered. Had Donovan's contacts sold them out?

"Relax. This is only another of my partners," Rick assured them. Jake and Alex watched as the car stopped. The door opened and the man stepped out. Jake jerked forward. **_The man positioned himself on top of the boy and pinned his arms over his head._** Jake drew in a shaky breath.

"No," he said.


	3. A Face And Memories From The Past

SHOUTOUTS\ANSWERS

ArodLoverus2001: Thanks. Keep readin' and find out. Hope this is soon enough.

Jayme: Thanks.

DISCLAIMER

UC: Undercover belongs to NBC. I only own characters you don't recognize. Oh, and I forgot to mention it in the last chap, but Alex and Jake **are** wired.

Alex looked at Jake. Her partner was staring at the newcomer and aside from his initial 'no', he hadn't said a word.

"Well, **this** is a surprise," the man smirked.

"You two know each other?" Rick asked.

"Just a dog I took in some years back," the man replied. "Gotta say, wasn't expectin' to see **him** again," he continued.

"So, who are you?" Alex asked.

"Name's James Whitlow, Sweetie. And I gotta say, you sure look good," the man said flirtatiously.

"You're not gonna touch her, Whitlow," Jake snapped, finally finding his voice. Sure he was scared as heck, but he wasn't about to let this guy get his paws all over Alex.

"Calm down, Jake. Don't get yourself riled," Frank said into Jake's earpiece. However, Jake's eyes still flashed.

"Easy, Jake. It's okay," Alex assured, putting a hand on his arm. Whitlow just smirked.

"Same old Jake," he said. From their position in headquarters, Frank, Monica, and Cody stared in surprise. How did Jake and this guy Whitlow know each other? And why had Whitlow called Jake a dog?

"So, what brings you two here?" Rick asked.

"Heard you were short a couple of members," Jake answered.

"And you thought you'd join up?" Rick questioned.

"Yeah, well, we---" Alex started to say in a ditzy voice.

"Maybe," Jake interrupted with mock irritation. "It all depends on **you**," he continued.

"Well, I normally wouldn't do this, but as you say, we're hard up. So, we'll let you in...on a trial basis of course," Rick stated.

"Of course," Jake agreed.

"Good. Glad we got that settled," Rick approved.

"How do we keep in touch?" Jake asked.

"Me and my boys are gonna be in town. We'll make contact when we got a job," Rick told him.

"Kay," Jake accepted. Rick looked at Alex.

"You know, I believe I've forgotten my manners. I'm Rick Hiram and who might this lady be?" Rick introduced himself.

"I'm Alex Laughlin," Alex responded.

"Walk with me, won'tcha?" Rick offered. He took her by the arm and led her off. Mugs and Tiny followed. Jake went to follow them, but was intercepted by Whitlow.

"I don't know what you think you're doin' here, dog, but you better not step outta line...you hear me?" the man asked softly.

"Yeah, yeah. I hear ya," Jake dismissed, walking away. Two hours later, everyone convened at headquarters.

"I want out...**now**!" Jake shouted.

"Jake---" Frank began to say.

"No! I don't care what you gotta do! Pop me! Put me on suspension! Send me to an adminstrative function---**anything**! I won't work with that man!" Jake interrupted.

"Jake, just calm down," Frank told him. Jake blew out a breath and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Jake, what is going on?" Alex questioned.

"Yeah. How do you know this guy?" Cody asked. Jake's eyes became pained and his throat became tight. He closed his eyes. **_Jake was thrown back on the bed._**

**_"No. Please. Not again. Please," he begged. Whitlow pinned Jake down and positioned himself on top. Jake tried to struggle, but Whitlow tightened his grasp._**

"Jake?" Donovan's voice broke through Jake's reverie.

"Donovan, please...I just can't," the operative insisted.

"Give me a good reason," Donovan told him.

_**"You remember what happens if you ever tell, don't you, Jake?" Whitlow reminded.**_

_**"No one believes me and I just get it worse," Jake reiterated.**_

_**"Good boy," Whitlow smirked.**_

"Sorry, Donovan. I can't," Jake responded.

"I'm sorry too, Jake. Because without a good reason, I can't pull you off the case," Donovan told him.

"If Keller were here, he'd pull me out no questions asked," Jake angrily said.

"Well, Keller's **not** here. And it's time you faced the fact that he's gone and he's never coming back," Donovan responded in the same tone. Jake lunged forward, pushing the older man against the wall.

"Don't you talk about him like that! Don't you dare!" he exclaimed.

"Jake!" Alex cried.

"You didn't know him! You have no right! No right!" Jake yelled, shaking the man. Alex ran up to them and pulled Jake away.

"Stop it, Jake! That's enough!" she reproached.

"He's got no right! He didn't know Keller like we did," came the response. For a moment, Alex was silent. She didn't know what to say.

"Jake," she said softly. She knew her friend was still grieving for their first leader. She was too.

"I'm out of here. I need a drink," he responded. Then, he stomped off.

"What was **that** all about?" Frank wondered. Sure he gotten Jake and Alex's profiles from Monica, but Jake's file had been sparse, superficial.

"Jake and John were...very close. Kind of a friendship\father-son thing. He's---he's still trying to come terms with his death," Alex explained.

"She's right. And what you said---it just drove him over the edge," Monica agreed.

"I'd sure like to know Jake's connection to this Whitlow fellow," Cody commented.

"As would I," Frank mused. "Cody, run the name through CODIS," he instructed.

"Yes, Sir," Cody agreed. Then went to his chair and went to his computer. Frank's eyes clouded in concentration. If only he knew what was bothering Jake. Meanwhile, Jake was at at bar, drinking away his pain. As he did so, the memories came back unbidden. **_Whitlow came at Jake, who was pushed back by the girl. Enraged, the man slapped her repeatedly._**

**_"Stop it! Leave her alone!" Jake shouted. He rushed the man, who merely knocked him away._** Jake grunted and averted his gaze. **_The door opened. Jake and the girl in front of him sat up and she pushed him behind her. Whitlow chuckled._**

**_"Why do you do that, kitten? Why do you protect a dog?" he sneered. Jake cringed and shrank against the wall as he shook in fear._** Jake let out a shaky breath and took a long drink and let the beverage burn his throat.


	4. Break Down

SHOUTOUTS\ANSWERS

ArodLoverus2001: You'll find that all out later. Sorry this isn't soon enough.

Jayme: Thanks. So did I. Here's another chap, sorry it isn't soon enough.

DISCLAIMER

UC: undercover belongs to NBC. I only own Whitlow. I can't remember what the owner of the orphanage's name in "Once Upon a Time...In the Hood" was, but I **think** it was Mike. As far as I know, I made up the name of the bar. If it's an actual bar, I apologize. It was the only thing I could come up with. I got the freak out scene from "The Unsaid".

Two hours later, Alex called Jake's cell.

"This is Jake. Go," his voicemail said.

"Come on, Jake. Pick up. I've been callin' for two hours. Where are you?" Alex asked in frustration. Then, she hung up. She had been checking every bar in Chicago, but couldn't seem to find him. _Come on, Jake. Where are you?_ she wondered. How come she couldn't find him? She had checked practically all of Jake's favorite hang outs. She was running out of options, fast. Making a quick decision, the woman turned her car around. Moments later, she arrived at the _Chicago Orphanage for Boys_. She walked in.

"Hello. May I help you?" a man asked.

"I'm Alex Cross. I'm a friend of Jake Shaw's. I thought he might be here," Alex replied.

"No. Haven't seen him," the man said.

"If you do, will you have him call me?" Alex requested.

"Sure," the man responded.

"Thank you," Alex said. Then, she turned around and headed for.

"Hey." The man's voice caused her to stop. "Why you lookin' for him?" he asked.

"He saw someone the other day and he seemed a little spooked," she answered.

"Who was he?" he asked.

"I didn't recognize him, but Jake called him Whitlow," she responded.  
"Whitlow?" the man asked under his breath. Then, a bit louder, "I'll have him call you."

"Thank you," she acknowledged as she showed herself out. Mike Damonte frowned thoughtfully. _Whitlow? He's out?_ he thought to himself. Mike sighed inwardly. He had a pretty good idea where Jake was.

"Yo, Rog. Keep an eye on the boys for me!" Mike called.

"Sure thing, boss!" Roger called from another room. Mike grabbed his car keys and headed out the door. Then, he got into his car and drove off. Minutes later, he reached _O'Flannigan's Bar_. He parked and walked in. He searched the room until he found who he was looking for. The man walked up to the young man who was just finishing up a drink.

"Cut him off," Mike instructed. The bartender nodded and did as he was told.

"Jake, this isn't the way," Mike said as he sat down.

"What are you doin' here?" Jake wondered.

"Heard Whitlow's out. Figured you'd go to the bar with the strongest drinks," Mike responded. Jake just shrugged.

"Just tryin' to drown out the memories, Mike," he said.

"Jake, I realize this is hard for you---" Mike began.

"**Don**'**t** try to shrink me, Mike!" Jake interrupted. "You don't know what it was like! You couldn't possibly know! I spent every night that I was there just praying that he'd leave us alone---leave **me** alone!" he continued.

"Jake, come on. Let's get out of here and talk about this," Mike suggested gently. He knew the ex-street kid could be somewhat unpredictable when he was drunk.

"Fine, whatever," Jake agreed. _Whew. Thank goodness it's one of his docile moods_, Mike thought in relief.

"I'll pick up his car later," the older man told the bartender. Then, he and Jake walked out to where Mike had parked his car. They got in and Mike drove them back to the orphanage, where Mike led them to his office. By this time, Jake's mood had considerably soured.

"Come on, Mike. I need a drink, man," he snapped.

"No, you need to sober up. And **we** need to talk," Mike responded.

"Talk? Talk about what?" Jake wondered.

"About Whitlow," Mike replied.

"What's there to talk about? Two kids are taken in, the home doesn't work out...no big deal," Jake shrugged.

"Except it left its mark on you," Mike noted.

"Hey! I told you not to shrink me, Mike!" Jake cried.

"Come on, Jake. Talk to me. Tell what you're feeling," Mike urged.

"Well, right now, I'm feelin' ticked off because you won't leave me alone!" Jake yelled.

"Jake, talk to me. Tell me how you felt," Mike requested.

"Tell you how I felt?" Jake repeated. "Tell you how I felt?" he asked again.

"Yes, Jake. How did you feel when Whitlow came into your room and abused you?" Mike asked.

"How did I feel! How did I **feel**?" Jake echoed.

"Yes! How did you feel?" Mike prompted. Jake jumped up and shoved various objects off the man's desk.

"Like **that**! It made me feel like **that**!" he screamed. "It made me feel sick! Like I was nothin'! Like I was just there to satisfy him!" Mike ran his hands through his hair. He had never seen Jake like this.

"You once told me there was someone else with you---a girl," the older man recalled.

"Chrissy. Her name was Chrissy," Jake said, instantly calming down. "She'd uh---she'd try to protect me, you know?" he continued.

"Protect you? How?" Mike asked.

"She'd sleep in front of me---push me out of the way," Jake answered, his voice breaking. "For---for awhile, it seemed to work. He'd take **her** instead. But then, I---I guess he got tired of her, 'cuz he'd go right through her straight to me. Man, I hated it," he continued. He began to cry.

"I tried to stop him, you know? But I---I couldn't," he insisted.

"Oh, Jake," the older man sighed. Jake fell to the floor crying, and Mike knelt down beside him and put his hands comfortingly on the ex-street kid's shoulders.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Okay, maybe Jake was too coherent for being drunk, but it just worked out this way.


	5. Plans

SHOUTOUTS\ANSWERS

ArodLoverus2001: Thanks. Yep. Sorry this isn't soon enough.

Jayme: Thanks. Sorry. Oh. Yikes. Thanks.

DISCLAIMER

UC: Undercover belongs to NBC. I only own characters you don't recognize. I made up the name of the art museum.

The next morning, Jake's eyes fluttered open. _What the---where am I?_ he thought in panic. Then, he calmed down, recognizing one of the rooms at the center. Seconds later, he heard a bell. He chuckled softly. For as long as he could remember, Mike had woken them up with that stupid thing. He was surprised that someone didn't try to find it and smash it. Shaking these thoughts away, he got out of bed and headed for the main lobby.

"Jake?" The agent sighed when he heard Mike's voice.

"What?" he snapped.

"I have a feeling we need to talk," came the response.

"Can't. I'm gonna be late," Jake said. Without giving Mike a chance to answer, he continued out the door. Meanwhile, everyone else was at headquarters, waiting impatiently.

"Where is he? He's usually here by now," Frank said irritably.

"Just give him a few more minutes. He'll be here," Alex responded. Almost as soon as she had said this, they heard a car engine.

"See? What'd I tell ya?" she quipped. Jake walked in and averted his gaze.

"Agent Shaw, you all right?" Frank questioned.

"Just fine," Jake answered in a clipped voice. "So, what's the next stage?" he continued.

"There's an art expo in a few days and I'm guessing that Hiram's gonna wanna scope it out," their commanding officer stated.

"So, we go with him?" Alex queried.

"If you can do it without blowing your cover, yes," Frank responded.

"**If**? You underestimate us," Jake grinned. Alex laughed, relieved to see her friend acting like his old, cocky self.

"So it's agreed. You two will make sure you get into the art expo," Frank declared.

"Yeah, okay. Now we just have to wait for Hiram to call us," Jake determined.

"Well, let's get into town and see what happens," Alex determined.

"I'm game," Jake agreed. "Wanna a ride?" he offered.

"Sure," Alex agreed. They walked off.

"Okay, am I the only one who sees a potential romantic relationship there?" Cody asked.

"Yes," Monica and Frank answered together. Meanwhile, Jake and Alex had decided to drive around town.

"So, are we gonna talk about it?" Alex asked after awhile.

"'Bout what?" Jake wondered.

"About whatever's bothering you," Alex responded.

"It's nothin'. Just some personal stuff. It won't get in the way of our job," Jake assured her.

"I know you wouldn't. But Jake, this Whitlow---he has you scared stiff," Alex stated.

"Just drop it, Alex," Jake said. He blew out a breath. He didn't need her interrogating him. If she pressed it, he'd only end up telling her their connection. And he couldn't do that...not ever. Alex looked at her friend, trying to decipher what he was thinking. Just then, they heard the sound of a honking horn. The two agents looked out the window to see Hiran in the driver's seat. _Oh, thank God_, Jake thought to himself. Maybe now Alex would stop trying to figure out what was going on with him. Jake acknowledged Hiram and pulled along side of him.

"Whatcha got?" he questioned.

"Big art exhibition at _Greer's Art Center_. We're gonna check it out tonight. Shouldn't take too long. Couple hours at the most," came the answer.

"Sounds good," Jake approved. Hiram started his engine and drove away. A few minutes later, Jake did the same, heading in the direction of their headquarters. Once they were there, Jake and Alex relayed what Hiram had told them. Donovan's instructions were clear: go with Hiram and his crew, take in the surroundings for exits and entrances to see if they could get local police in, make sure there'd be enough room to move around if things got dicey, and to be careful. Two hours later, Jake and Alex joined Hirma's crew at _Greer's Art Center_. As instructed, the two agents took in their surroundings.

"Looks pretty neat. We can enter through the skylight, take the paintings out of their frames without tripping the alarm, and then get out," Hiram noted in a soft tone as other visitors milled around.

"Good idea," Jake agreed. They continued talking for a few minutes, and then left. Moments, the partners were back at headquarters and told Donovan what Hiram had said.

"Good job," Donovan approved. "Okay, here's what we'll do: we wait until one or more of the crew has one of the items in their hands and then we'll arrest them," he continued.

"Yes, Sir," Alex acknowledged.

"You got it," Jake agreed at the same. The team looked at each other. Now all they could do was wait.


	6. Busted

DISCLAIMER

UC: Undercover belongs to the NBC. I only own characters you don't recognize.

Two night later, Jake, Alex, and the rest of the crew snuck into _Greer's Art Center_ at different angles using grappling hooks.

"Here we go," Jake murmured.

"Yep," Alex said softly.

"Sweet set up, huh, dog?" Whitlow queried slimely. _Man, if he calls me that **one** more time!_ Jake thought to himself. However, he kept it to himself. It was his own damage and he had a job to do. And he'd do it. All he had to do was focus and concentrate on what Donovan had told them to do. Silently, each member of the team did their part. From his position in their headquarters, Donovan nodded in satisfaction. Things were going according to plan. They just needed one more minute. One more minute longer and they'd have these guys. The pictures were lifted out of their frames, hoisted up into air, and given to the pilots and some other crew members.

"Okay. We have what we need. You have a go," Donovan told them. Jake and Alex each gave a grunt of acknowledgment.

"Good job boys, and a very special girl," Hiram congratulated, giving Alex a smug smirk.

"Thanks," Alex giggled. "Hiram, there's...there's something I have to tell you," she continued with another giggle.

"What?" Hiram asked.

"You're under arrest," Alex declared, showing him her badge as Jake did likewise. Then, they pocketed the tins.

"What?" Hiram queried, his tone changing.

"That's right, Hiram. You and your sorry crew are goin' to the slammer," Jake drawled.

"YOU!" With an almost inhuman roar, Whitlow lunged at Jake who backed up with a small gasp. Then, they all felt a slight tremor. Whitlow tried again. There was another shake.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Whitlow, stop," Jake said.

"You tellin' me what to do, dog?" Whitlow queried.

"Whitlow, just drop your power game for one minute. If that copter shakes one more time, our harnesses split, and we all die. You're a sick jerk---I've never forgotten that---but John Keller taught me that **nobody** deserves to die," Jake stated. "Now, like we were saying, you're all under arrest," he continued. With that, he proceeded to read the group their rights. A few minutes later, the Undercover team met on the roof.

"Okay, strangest bust I've ever made, bar none," Jake declared. Everyone laughed.

"Yeah. I **definitely** gotta agree with Jake on this one," Alex commented.

"Come on. Let's get out of here," Donovan said. With that, they started down the fire escape.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

I'm going to be going in another direction with this fic, but don't worry. There's still plenty of Jake angst.


	7. The Next Case

SHOUTOUTS\ANSWERS

Jayme: Thanks.

DISCLAIMER

UC: Undercover belongs to NBC. I only own Whitlow who'll be making a reappearance later. I got the name "Sullivan" from Smallville.

THREE WEEKS LATER

Jake jerked awake from another nightmare. He let out a sigh and slumped back. He had figured that after they busted Whitlow and put him back in jail that the nightmares would stop. Instead, they seemed to be getting more frequent and worse. He just---he didn't know what to do. With a sigh, the agent climbed out of bed and got dressed. As he did so, his gaze fell on the previous day's newspaper.

"Chrissy," he murmured. She was all grown up now. A famous singer and performing in town. Maybe he should talk to her. **She**'**d** understand. Better than anybody else. His mind filled with memories and smiled somewhat ruefully. Chrissy. He missed her. He picked up the paper and looked at the information on it. Then, he walked to the phone and and dialed a number.

"Yeah, hi. I'm Jake Shaw. Do you have any tickets for the Christina Sullivan performance left?" Jake questioned. He listened for a few minutes. Then, "I'd like order a ticket." He gave the person on the other line his information and was told shortly that he could pick the ticket up when he got to the performance in two days.

"Thanks," Jake said gruffly. Then, he hung up. Then, he sighed. He couldn't shake his nightmare. Once again, he was back there...with **him**. Jake shuddered. He needed---he needed a distraction. He needed---he needed to think. Just then, the phone rang. Jake jumped. Then he took the receiver off its cradle.

"Yeah?" he queried.

"That's how you answer the phone these days?" a voice teased.

"Alex. Hi," Jake said somewhat sheepishly. "Sorry. Had a weird dream. Still tryin' to shake it," he continued.

"It's okay," Alex told him.

"So, what'd you want? I---I mean---" Jake stammered. Alex laughed.

"Okay, stop before you hurt yourself," she advised.

"Right. Sorry," he apologized. "So, um, what can I do for you?" he queried.

"Well, we were thinking about getting some tickets to this singer that's playing in a couple of days: a Christina---" Alex began.

"Sullivan. Uh, thanks for the thought, but I already got one," Jake interrupted, realizing what Alex was asking.

"Oh, wow. Okay. Just thought I'd ask," Alex stated.

"I appreciate it. Thanks," Jake told her. They hung up. _Well, look who's a popular girl_, he thought to himself. Then, he walked to the stereo and put in the c.d. he had last time.

_Hush little baby, don't say a word._

_Papa's gonna buy you a mocking bird._

_If that mocking bird don't sing,_

_Papa's gonna buy you a diamond ring..._

Jake didn't know why he he found comfort in the song. Especially after what Whitlow had done to them. But maybe it wasn't the song itself, but just her voice. Her voice had always calmed him down. It had kept him from going crazy. And for that he was grateful.

"If that Billy Goat don't pull, papa's gonna buy you a cart and bull. If that cart and bull tip over, papa's gonna buy you a dog named Rover," Jake sang along with the disc. A few minutes later, the song ended and another started. Jake soon lost himself in her music. _Oh, man. I had almost forgotten how good her other songs were_, Jake thought to himself. Suddenly, the phone rang, wrenching him out of his reverie.

"Hello?" he asked, picking up the receiver.

"Agent Shaw, why aren't you here?" Donovan asked angrily.

"'Cuz nobody told me I was supposed to be," Jake responded. He hung up and went to the garage where he he had parked his bike and then mounted the machine. Then, he took off. A few minutes later, he arrived at headquarters.

"Okay, next you want me somewhere, you tell me. That way I don't look like an idiot," Jake declared.

"Yeah, that was my fault. I was supposed to tell you," Alex sheepishly stated.

"So, what's up?" Jake asked.

"Nothing big. Just a babysitting assignment," Cody answered bitterly.

"Huh?" Jake queried.

"Local police need help in protecting a famous singer," Frank answered.

"Frank, we're federal agents. Why are we being relegated to rent-a-cops?" Jake demanded.

"I'm with Jake," Cody said.

"Shut up, Cody," Monica told him.

"Apparently, this singer has had problems with this guy in the past. He keeps calling her, saying that he knows about something that happened to her when she was kid," Frank said.

"We got a name?" Jake asked.

"Christina Sullivan," Monica replied.

"Chrissy?" Jake questioned, his body tensing.

"You...know her?" Alex questioned.

"When we were kids," was Jake's stoic response. He exhaled sharply. "Okay, um, so what's the suspect's name?" he questioned.

"A Trevor Perkins," Monica told them. Jake's only response was a furrowed brow. _Perkins. Perkins. Nope. Doesn't ring a bell,_ he thought.

"Jake, are you okay?" Monica questioned.

"Does he do anything besides call?" Jake asked, deflecting attention off himself.

"She **did** get one letter, which they sent to us," Donovan stated. With that, he pulled an envelope out from underneath his coat and tossed it on the table.

"It's all right if we read this?" Jake questioned. Normally he wouldn't care, but Chrissy...that was different.

"Of course," Donovan answered. Jake opened the letter. His eyes skimmed over the letter.

"Agent Shaw...out loud," Donovan instructed.

"Christina, I know your secret. I know what you were like when you were a kid," Jake read aloud.

"You have any idea what this guy's talkin' about?" Alex asked.

"No. we were---only in the same---**situation**---for a little while," Jake said with some difficulty. He re-focused on the letter. "You were so pretty, like a---" his voice broke off abruptly.

"Jake?" Monica queried. Jake didn't answer.

"Agent Shaw, are you all right?" Donovan asked.

"You were so pretty, like a---like a---" Jake struggled with the words.

"Like a---**what**?" Cody pressed impatiently.

"Like a mocking bird," Jake finished thickly.

"That means something to you?" Alex asked him. **_Whitlow held a camera as Jake and Chrissy danced in front of it._**

_**"Hush little baby, don't say a word. Papa's gonna buy you a mocking bird. If that mocking bird don't sing, papa's gonna buy you a diamond a ring," they sang.**_

"Did Chrissy leave a number?" Jake wondered, shaking off the memory.

"Yeah. I got it here," Donovan replied. He took out a small card and tossed it to Jake.

"Phone," Jake stated. The instrument was pushed towards the agent who dialed a number. Then, "This is Agent Jake Shaw. Get me Christina Sullivan." He waited a few minutes. Then, as Frank put them on speaker phone, he heard her voice.

"Jake?" Christina Sullivan asked.

"Chrissy, why didn't you tell me?" Jake queried.

"I didn't want you to know, Jake. Once you got out of there, I just wanted you to forget," Chrissy answered. The other agents looked at each other in confusion. What was she talking about?

"I never forgot, Chrissy. I---can't ever forget," Jake said softly. He cleared his throat. "Listen, why don't I pick you up? Where are you?" he questioned. Christina gave him the information.

"Thanks. I'll be right there," he promised. He hung up.

"Jake, you can't go alone," Frank objected.

"I have to, Frank. I'm the only one she trusts," Jake responded. With that, he headed out. They heard his motorcycle engine revving and taking off.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

I got the video camera angle from the Joanna Kilbourne movie "Verdict In Blood". It had always been my intention to use it, I just hadn't had a good way to introduce it until now.


	8. Remembering The Past

SHOUTOUTS\ANSWERS

Jayme: Does that you mean like it?

DISCLAIMER

UC: Undercover belongs to the NBC. I only own characters you don't recognize.

Jake parked his motorcycle outside the apartment.

"Wow. Uptown girl," he commented. It was good to see Chrissy living the life she deserved. And he'd be danged if he'd let some jerk ruin that for her. He dismounted and walked up to the building. Then, he rang the doorbell.

"Yeah?" a voice queried.

"My name is Jake Shaw. I'm here for Christina Sullivan," Jake reported.

"Just a minute," the voice said. The agent waited. A few minutes later, the girl came out, a bag in her hand.

"Chrissy," Jake said softly. He put a hand on her cheek. "I'm so sorry this is happening to you," he told.

"You said---you knew some people who could help me?" Christina questioned as they approached the bike. The agent opened the glove box and put the bag inside.

"Yeah. Hop on," Jake responded, handing her his helmet. She strapped the headgear on and got on the bike. Jake got in front and she placed her fingers through his jean loopholes. Then, they took off and arrived at headquarters minutes later. Jake opened the glove box and retrieved the bag, which he handed to Christina. They walked into the briefing room.

"This her?" Donovan questioned.

"Yes, Sir," Jake answered. "Chrissy, this is Frank Donovan, Alex Cross, Cody Forrester, and Monica Davis. Guys, this is Christina Sullivan commonly known among her friends as Chrissy," he continued. As he made the introductions, he pointed to each person.

"Miss Sullivan, when did the first incident occur?" Donovan asked.

"Donovan!" Jake chided.

"You're right. Forgive me, Miss Sullivan. I tend to just go right into the investigation," Donovan apologized.

"It's all right. Jake---said you could help," Christina stated.

"Yeah. We can," Donovan answered.

"I'm gonna go get you a drink," Jake said. "Somethin' tells me you're gonna need it." He walked away. The agent walked to the cafeteria.

"Hey, Jake. What can I getcha?" the woman behind the counter questioned.

"Hot chocolate," Jake replied.

"Changing your drinking habits?" she teased.

"Not even. It's for a friend," Jake chuckled.

"Okay. One hot chocolate comin' up," the woman promised.

"You know what? Why don't you make it two?" Jake requested.

"Whatever you say," the woman acknowledged. She quickly made the beverages. Jake paid her, took the cups, and walked away. When he got back to the briefing room, he walked over to Christine.

"Here. Got you some hot chocolate," Jake stated gently.

"Thanks," Christina acknowledged, taking the offered cup.

"Figured it was 'bout time I returned the favor," Jake responded. Christina let out a small scoff and took a drink.

"Do you feel like talking?" Jake asked her. She nodded.

"So, when **did** the first incident occur?" Donovan wondered.

"About a year ago. I got a letter out of the blue from this Perkins guy saying that he understood where I was coming from, that he knew about my pain. It freaked me out so I called my manager. He told me not to worry, that'd he take of it. But then I started getting more and the local police couldn't catch him," Christina answered, beginning to cry.

"Chrissy, I, uh---I read that last letter. I saw what he wrote. How did he---" Jake began to ask.

"I don't know!" Chrissy interrupted tearfully. "I don't know how he found out about Whitlow," she sobbed. Alex walked over and pulled Christina into a hug. Jake watched as his friend cried. _Man, I've never seen her like this. I've never seen her break down before_, he thought to himself. His Adam's Apple wobbled and then he took off.

"Jake?" Monica asked in confusion.

"I got him," Donovan stated. With that, he followed the direction he had seen his operative run. He found him in the gym working on the punching bag.

"Shouldn't you be wearing gloves?" Donovan queried.

"Don't feel the pain. Never have," Jake responded.

"You want to talk about it?" Donovan offered.

"What is this, 'Shrink Jake' week?" Jake tossed back. Then, "Sorry, Frank. I---I didn't mean---" He sighed. "It's just---oh, man---Chrissy---she---she was always the strong one. She was the one who protected me," he continued. At first, Frank didn't understand what Jake was saying, but then he understood.

"You were abused by Whitlow," he realized. The ex-street kid sighed and hung his head.

"Yes. Yes, I was abused by Whitlow," he admitted.

"What happened?" Frank questioned.

"He was **sick**, Frank. He'd uh---come into the room. Take one of us---usually, Chrissy 'cuz, uh...she'd sleep in front of me---do things," Jake said, and then let out a grunt of pain.

"That last letter---Perkins called Christina a mocking bird. Do you know what that means?" Frank asked. Jake didn't answer, but averted his gaze.

"Agent Shaw? Jake?" Frank prodded. For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Then, Jake started humming. Frank kept quiet. He wanted to know what was going on, but instinctively knew that if he pressed it, the agent would shut down on him.

"Hush little baby, don't say a word. Papa's gonna buy you a mocking bird. If that mocking bird don't sing, papa's gonna buy you a diamond ring." Frank slowly approached Jake, not wanting to disturb him.

"Jake," he said softly.

"If that diamond ring turns brass, papa's gonna buy you a looking glass. If that looking glass gets broke, papa's gonna buy you a Billy goat," the other agent continued in a choked voice.

"Jake, what'd he do to you?" Frank wondered. Jake just began crying. He slid to the floor and the other man knelt down by his side. Tentatively, Frank reached out and put a hand on Jake's shoulder.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Just so you know, I am a **firm** believer in wearing helmets---safety **always** comes first. However, I didn't work in two helmets for this chap.


	9. Setting The Bait

SHOUTOUTS\ANSWERS

Jayme: Thanks. Here's the next chap.

DISCLAIMER

UC: Undercover belongs to NBC. I only own characters you don't recognize. The names James and Whitlow are interchangeable since it's the same guy. I **do** have one sort of swear word, but only 'cuz it fits in with Jake's personality.

Minutes later, Donovan ushered Jake back into the briefing room.

"Jake, you all right?" Alex questioned. Jake just shrugged.

"So, what do we do about these letters?" Monica wondered.

"Well, maybe---maybe we can trick the guy into showing himself and then bust him," Jake suggested.

"How?" Cody questioned.

"By settin' up a meet. Say that Chrissy really wants to meet him. If he's a big of a fan as he claims, he won't be able to resist," Jake commented.

"I don't know. That seems awfully risky," Alex disagreed.

"Hey. I'll be right behind her. No way would the freak get his hands on her," Jake stated.

"No. Alex is right. A set up like that would only put Christina into danger," Donovan determined.

"You'll be there, Jake?" Christina questioned.

"Absolutely," Jake promised.

"Then I want to do it," Christina determined.

"Are you sure?" Alex asked.

"Yeah. Jake'll be there, so I'll be fine," Christina answered.

"And hey, if you change your mind, we can always leave," Jake assured her.

"So, how do we reel this guy in?" Cody wondered.

"We broadcast," Jake answered.

"You mean we go on television and tell Trevor that I wanna meet him?" Chrissy questioned.

"Yeah," Jake answered. "Is that gonna be all right? If not, I can---" he began to ask.

"Jake, it'll be fine. It's a great idea," Christina interrupted, putting a hand on his arm. "Hey, I trust you," she said softly, as she put her other hand on his cheek. Jake tried to swallow the lump in his throat. Trust. Such a precious word. There weren't many people he trusted---**really** trusted. Chrissy was one of the few, along with the team. And to know that she shared that trust---it meant the world to him. Chrissy looked Jake sympathetically, seeming to read his expression.

"Yeah, I know," she said. Then, "Okay. Let's get crackin'. The sooner we broadcast, the sooner this freak's out of my life." Jake chuckled.

"That's my girl," he muttered. The rest of the team followed the two out the door. It took some finangling, but the team managed to get a local t.v. station to agree to air Christina's message. From the sound room, everyone watched as Christina sat in a chair.

"She looks nervous. Maybe this was a bad idea," Jake worried.

"Relax. She'll be fine," Donovan told him. "Besides, it's a little too late now," he added.

"I'm Megan Hendrix and I'm here live with Christina Sullivan," the anchorwoman stated. In Chicago State Penitentiary, a group of people were gathered around, watching t.v.

"Hey, turn it up," James requested.

"What's up, Whitlow? You recognize the broad?" an inmate asked.

"Yeah. It's my little kitten," James snickered. Another inmate did as the man requested.

"Now Christina, can you tell us why you're here?" Megan questioned.

"Because of Trevor Perkins, of course," Christina answered.

"Who?" Megan asked.

"Well, he's been sending me letters saying that he knows what I was like when I was a kid and that he understands," Christina stated.

"Letters? How often does he send them?" Megan wondered.

"Oh, all the time," Christina giggled.

"Doesn't this concern you? I mean---didn't you call the police?" Megan asked.

"Yes. I'm ashamed to say I did. I mean, he was so sweet and---I complained about it. Now I'd just like to meet him and apologize in person," Christina replied.

"She's good," Cody approved.

"Yeah, Chrissy can throw bull around with the best of 'em," Jake noted. Alex chuckled softly.

"She's, uh---really special to you, isn't she?" the girl queried.

"She's the---the first person I allowed myself to trust," Jake stated.

"Really?" Donovan asked, catching the comment.

"Yeah. After Whitlow, I---just lost hope. But Chrissy, she---she kept me from sinkin'. I've always been grateful," Jake told them.

"So this is basically you returning the favor," Cody said.

"That...and much more," Jake replied. Chrissy finished her message and they signed off after leaving a number where Perkins could reach her. After turning the "ON AIR" sign off, Christina walked back to where the team was waiting.

"So. How'd I do?" she asked them.

"Perfect. As always," came Jake's response.

"Honey-tongue," Christina accused.

"Uh-huh. You know it," Jake admitted. Then, they walked out.


	10. Capture

SHOUTOUTS\ANSWERS

Jayme: Thanks. Glad you like it. Here's the next chap.

DISCLAIMER

UC: Undercover belongs to NBC and Shane Salerno. I only own characters you don't recognize, which as far as I know, includes the bar. I know it's generally called "Hush Little Baby", but I heard it referred to as "Mocking Bird" in a movie.

A couple hours later, Christina was at Jake's apartment, pacing nervously.

"Oye, calmate," Jake chided.

"I figured he'd call by now. What's he trying to do? Make me crazy?" Christina wondered. She glanced at the phone, which had been linked to the undercover's phone equipment.

"Hey. I'm right here, all right? As long as I'm here, you won't go crazy," Jake said.

"Cocky, ain'tcha?" Christina queried.

"Well, you know **me**," Jake grinned. She playfully smacked him. Then, the phone rang. Christina nervously walked over to the nightstand and picked the instrument up as Jake went into the kitchen to listen in on the other line.

"Hello?" she asked. Back at headquarters, Cody's ears perked.

"Sir? I think we got him," he reported.

"Run the trace," Frank ordered. Cody immediately pressed the button that let them trace the call.

"Christina, is that you?" a timid voice asked.

"Yeah, it's me," Christina confirmed. "Trevor, is that you?" she queried.

"You remember me?" Cody rolled his eyes at the eagerness in the man's voice. _What a geek_, he thought to himself.

"Of course I remember you, Trevor. You wrote me that nice letter," Christina stated.

"But you called the police," Trevor reminded her.

"I know. And I'd really like to meet you so I can apologize," Christina told him.

"Really?" Trevor questioned.

"Yeah," Christina replied. She glanced at Jake, who motioned for her to keep talking. "Listen Trevor, I **really** want to make this up to you. I mean, I know this was a pretty big mistake and---I just---I need to talk to you in person," she continued.

"Okay. There's a bar over on 5th Street. Let's meet there in half an hour," Trevor suggested.

"Yeah. I---I think I know where that is. That's a good place," Christina agreed. The conversation went on for a few more seconds and then they hung up.

"Okay. Let's go," Jake said gruffly.

"But the meeting's not for thirty minutes," Christina objected.

"Well, we're gonna need time to get you wired," Jake told her.

"Oh. Okay," Christina said. With that, they took off. At the headquarters, Jake put together a wire. He stepped up to Christina, then stopped.

"Um, I'm---I'm gonna have to---" Jake began to say.

"It's okay," Christina interrupted reassuringly. With that, Jake undid the top button of her shirt and began taping the wire to her chest. He pressed down on the tape, his fingers brushed against her shirt collar.

_**"Jake, put your hand down her shirt," Whitlow ordered from behind him the camera.**_

_**"What?" Jake gasped, turning to stare at the man. "No, I'm not gonna---"**_

_**"Dog, you do it, or I swear I'll make it worse for you," Whitlow threatened. With a shaky breath, Jake put his hand on Christina's collar. His fingers moved downward.**_

"Jake?" Alex's voice brought Jake from his dark thoughts.

"Sorry. I just---" he trailed off. The singer looked at her friend sympathetically.

"It's okay," she told him.

"All set?" he queried.

"All set," his old friend confirmed.

"Good. It's time to roll," Jake stated. They walked out to where Jake had parked his motorcycle. Minutes later, Jake pulled into the parking lot of _Addison's Bar_. He nodded in acknowledgement of the two officers that were already hidden.

"Okay. You ready?" he questioned.

"As I'll ever be, I guess," was her response.

"You can back out. It's all right," he assured her.

"I'll be fine," she laughed.

"I'll be right outside. As soon as we get what we need, I'll be right in to arrest him," he reminded her.

"Right," Christina remembered. She blew out a breath and then went inside as Jake took his position right outside the door. Inside, Christina waited at the counter. Presently, a man about five-seven with red hair walked up to her.

"Christina?" he timidly questioned.

"That depends. Are you Trevor?" Christina checked.

"Yes, I am," the man confirmed.

"Well, then, I'm Christina," she stated.

"You said you wanted to talk to me?" Trevor queried.

"Yeah. I do," Christina told him. "It's about the calls and the letter," she told him.

"I---didn't mean to cause so much trouble. I just wanted to let you know that you had my sympathy," Trevor said.

"I know. I realized that after I had calmed down," Christina responded. "You know, I'm---I'm **real** sorry I called the police on you," she apologised.

"It's okay," Trevor said.

"You know, I was just curious, how did you know about the song?" Christina wondered.

"Oh, you mean "Mocking Bird?" Trevor queried.

"Yeah," Christina nodded.

"Oh, that's easy. I used to be friends with a man named James Whitlow and he showed me a tape once," Trevor replied.

"Jake, you got a 'go'," Donovan reported. Jake walked in.

"Hey, do you mind?" Trevor demanded.

"Yeah, I do. You're under arrest for stalking," Jake told him.

"Christina," Trevor said in surprise.

"Turn around," Jake instructed. Trevor did so and Jake brought handcuffs. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law," he continued.

"Just who are you?" Trevor asked angrily.

"I'm the other kid on that tape you watched," Jake stated. "Now keep moving," he ordered. He continued the Miranda as they walked out. The female officer came out and walked up to Christina.

"Are you okay?" she asked gently.

"Just glad it's over," the singer replied.

"Come on," the female officer said. Two days later, the team, minus Jake, were at a nightclub.

"Hey, where's Jake?" Donovan wondered.

"Oh. He said he had something to do and that he wasn't going to be able to make it," Alex responded. They watched as Christina took her place on stage.

"This next song is dedicated to a friend who couldn't be here tonight, but I know he's rooting for me just the same," she announced. With that, a slow, bluesy jazz temp filled the room.

_Hush little baby, don't say a word._

_Papa's gonna buy you a mocking bird._

_If that mocking bird don't sing,_

_Papa's gonna buy you a diamond ring._

At the _Chicago Orphanage for Boys_, Jake walked through the halls.

"Hey, Jake," Mike said as he came out of the rec area.

"Hey, Mike. Brett in?" Jake queried.

"Always," Mike replied. Jake continued on his way until he came to a door marked **Counselor's Office**. Then, he opened the door. Brett Rogers looked up from his paperwork.

"Jake Shaw. Well **this** is a surprise," he commented.

"What can I say? I'm finally ready to talk," Jake shrugged.

"Well, come on in," Brett invited. Jake closed the door.

_If that diamond ring turns brass,_

_Papa's gonna buy you a looking glass._

_If that looking glass gets broke,_

_Papa's gonna buy you a Billy go-o-oat..._

THE END

AUTHOR'S NOTE

If you or someone you know is being physically abused, call 1-800-4-A-CHILD (2-24453). If you or someone you know is being sexually abused, call RAINN's national hotline at 1-800-656-HOPE (4673).


End file.
